


Checkmate

by ghettoassenglishman



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Bipolar Disorder, Denial, Hospitalization, I just want Ian Gallagher to be okay, Ian's internal thoughts, M/M, POV Second Person, Sad, Sick!Ian, set day after Mickey and Fiona visits, spoilers 5x07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-16 01:12:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3468881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghettoassenglishman/pseuds/ghettoassenglishman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>' “Can you take me with you? Can you get me out of here?” You ask him, desperate for him to say yes because all eyes were on you. Everyone's eyes are on you – they want you to get better from something you don't have. Why you? You've never done anything bad, never hurt anyone, never done something that questions your sanity, have you? ' </p><p>- Lip goes to visit Ian at the ward and Ian wants him to get him out of there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Checkmate

**Author's Note:**

> So after the very, very hurtful episode I needed to write something in Ian's perspective. But come on, I'm fucking crying about Ian in denial, Ian wanting to go home, Mickey hugging Ian's jacket, Mickey drinking, Mickey crying, Fiona and Jimmy situo, Fiona and Gus sito, the fact that Lip is starting to deal with shit on his own, KEV AND V LIKE WTF???, just EVERYTHING. I just hope for some more feels next episode, because even though I ball my eyes out and its so angsty, I love the fact that they show a relationship in such a realistic way. I mean no relationship, or life, is ever perfect right?
> 
> So yeh, I wrote it differently to my other fics but always a goer

You are woken up by the same voice as yesterday, the same routine that you _need_ to get out of. You keep telling yourself it will be soon, Fiona said it would be soon – but the walls seem to be getting smaller, and the shit they were giving him was making everything so loud and you so aware. _Click, click, click._ The pills are on your plate, two white capsules staring you dead the face, the man dressed in white is giving you them, trying to pull you out of his bed. You want to wear your own clothes, you want to be _you._ You want to go home. This prison, its enclosing you in. You need to be at home, Mickey and Yevgeny are waiting, they _need_ you. You need to get out.

 

You do as you're told, you don't want the prick-of-a guard to bust your ass again, but you need to leave today. Maybe there is a door you can quickly squeeze through – maybe an exit you can disguise yourself to go through. No way can you see that woman today, all she chats is bullshit. You love that baby. You would do anything for that baby, she doesn't know shit. They call you Monica, they _all_ do, you can feel them whispering her name. But you know you're not. You are you, why can't they see that? There is nothing wrong, you didn't do anything wrong.

 

Now you've got to wait. The hours drag long and you concentrate on getting out of there. _Click, tap, click, tap, click, tap, “checkmate!”_ It all goes on in a blur, but you don't care, once your out you won't have to take them no more. You feel sick, the pills they give you make you _sick,_ what are they trying to prove? You won't have to wear these ugly clothes and walk around not knowing anyone. You can go _home._ You can go home to Mickey and Yevgeny – hell, even Svetlana. You can show them you're okay, that you don't need help, that you did what you did for a good reason.

 

 _Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock._ You know Lip's coming in today, the woman told you. You know that this could be your chance of getting out of there, this could be his way out. At the moment you can't really see the clock on the wall, its all blurred, you're hands are in focus, your white bracelet wrapped around you arm. You want to pull it off, rip it off, shove it in the faces of those in there who feed you bullshit. _Breathe, Lip will be here soon. He will take you home. He would never let you down._

 

They tell you he's here, they bring you through the double white doors. You older brother is sitting impatiently in the green chairs, foot tapping so loud it almost hurts. You walk forward, slow, you don't feel like walking, no until you get out of there. He brings you into a crushing hug, patting your back as he pulls you apart. You don't move, you just watch. When movements are too fast you can almost see nothing and Lips face is the only thing in focus. He smiles, like he pities you, you don't need to have pity. There's nothing wrong with you. A mumble comes out of his mouth and you guess he wants to sit down because he's already sitting by the table. You take a seat, eyes wandering for the opportunity to run.

 

“How you doing?” He asked, trying to catch your eyes but you won't let him. You won't let him see what they have done to you. You don't answer, you just shrug, you are not entirely sure yourself you just know you can't be here. That Lip has to take you home. That you are fine, just one blip doesn't make you crazy, why do they think you're crazy?

 

He carries on talking anyway, you know its what the nurses told him to do. “I stopped my mail going to the house, I'm loosing my place at college but me and Kev are trying to find a way to get around it. I guess I'm moving in college full time, if I can pay the fee. How about you, how's the med's?” He looks at you dearly, concern in his eyes just like Mickey's the day before. Why are they concerned? Why are they looking at you like you're going to break? You're fine. _You are fine._

 

“Can you take me with you? Can you get me out of here?” You ask him, desperate for him to say yes because all eyes were on you. Everyones eyes are on you – they want you to get better from something you don't have. Why you? You've never done anything bad, never hurt anyone, never done something that questions your sanity, have you?

 

“Wait what?” Lip bit his lip, you know what he's thinking. You know what they are all thinking. _Just like monica._ Well you're not like Monica. They don't know shit. Your brother moves closer, he rests his hands on your shoulder, you try to look away because the room is starting to spin and Lips voice is getting louder. “Ian, they want to help you, you get out after tomorrow – you'll get the right treatment and you'll be better.” Better from what? What was wrong with him?

 

“I shouldn't be here. I should be at home. They keep giving me these pills, I don't need pills.” You can tell you are whispering, you know because Lip is trying to hear everything you say. You are getting quieter and the room is getting louder. _Click, tap, click, tap, click, tap - “checkmate!”_ “Fiona and Mickey they- they just got it wrong. You – you know me, you know I wasn't hurting Yevgeny, I love Yevgeny.” You have said this so many times and no one understands. You signed those papers, but You did it for them. You always do it for them.

 

Pity. Again. Stop with the fucking pity. You don't need it. “I know. I know, but this will help you. They know what they are doing, man. You just gotta stick it till after tomorrow. Then you can go home, see Mickey see Yevgeny.” It all seems so simple coming from his mouth, but it isn't. Where is Mickey? Mickey would help him get out? Wouldn't he?

 

“Do you think I'm crazy?” Please say no. Please fucking agree with _me_ , you want him to tell you you're not alone with all of this. You look around, they are watching you – they are always watching you. You want to leave, you want your clothes – you don't feel safe in this yellow shirt, you don't feel like you.

 

“Ian, you stole Mickey's baby.” Lip muttered, you know he feels guilty – you can see it in his eyes. These pills, they make you see clearly, they make you want to puke but you can see the way his eyes flickered with the same pity they all have been giving you.

 

“I love Yevgeny, I was taking him to Orlando. Fiona nearly killed Liam, she hasn't been locked up like this? I just- I just, I don't need to be here, Lip.” You plead with your eyes, you know you're fucked. You can tell, you can sense, that Lip is going to make you stay. All of them would.

 

“Just let them help you.” Lip speaks softly, you want to thank him – you want to shout at him, but you are just so tired. Your limbs feel shaky, they aren't the same, they are trying to change you. Why do you have to change? Are you so shit that you _need_ to change? What about Mickey, does he want you to change? Are you not good enough for him. Wait – that's stupid, obviously you're not good enough for him. But fuck it.

 

You stand up, you don't want anymore pity and Lip wasn't going to help you leave. You know your brother, but not this side. He's looking at you like you used to at Monica, he's speaking like you would to her, he's giving you the same treatment that would be used to talk to your mom. _You are not Monica._ Why do they think you are?

 

“Ian?” He asks, trying to speak to you more. But you can't take it. You are just so, so tired. You want to go home, you want to sleep in the bed you share with Mickey, you want to see your family and just go as normal. You are normal, you don't need shitty pills. You have to find another way. Stick it out? How can you stick it out of they are feeding you pills that you don't even need.

 

“I'm tired.” You mumble, just as you did with Mickey and Fiona. You only realised later that Mickey might had been crying; but then again, how can you know what's real when they are dosing you up with shit you don't need? You walk back to your room, head looking at your feet because you can't yet block out the click of doors, keys, trays...pills. You bang your head against the wall, breathing in and out, you skim your head against the plaster, _breathe, skim, breathe, skim._ They are watching you, but soon they won't. You get out in one day, you get out and you won't have to take those pills no more, you don't have to. You can go home and prove you are not sick, that Monica and you are different people. Monica slit her wrists, you didn't. She abandoned everyone, all of his kids and then came back for a shopping spree, you didn't.

 

You are not her.

 

And you are not sick.

 

You just need to go home.


End file.
